


Reflections

by Elywyngirlie



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cuba, Finding other countries, M/M, Meats back on the menu, Murder Husbands, One Shot, reflections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8825665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elywyngirlie/pseuds/Elywyngirlie
Summary: Will reflects on what Castro's death means for their Cuban stay. A one-shot look at their Cuban life and options for our favorite murder husbands.





	

Will leaned against the window frame and looked out at the procession below. An old woman hung the Cuban flag out of her window. An older man, skin paper thin and veiny, covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking. A young boy chased after a dog, his mother’s sharp voice calling him back.

And Will watched them all, cataloging away what forms mourning took.

“Do we need to leave?,” he eventually asked. Hannibal brought the paper down he was reading on the patio, his eyes hidden by dark sunglasses.

“Are you worried about Jack Crawford, Will?”

“I don’t want to lose our home,” Will answered half in truth. He had grown used to this home with bright blue paint fading in the sun, the veranda in the back, the little courtyard where he greeted the other residents in his mangled Spanish. The collection of dogs that had been growing, much to Hannibal’s dismay.

“You think of this as our home?,” Hannibal asked, cocking his head. That move always reminded Will of an eager cocker spaniel. One night, pressed against Hannibal’s chest, he had mentioned the similarity. Hannibal had snorted and tipped Will’s head up to face him, warning him with a kiss, taking a bit too much lip between his teeth, not to say that again.

A cocker spaniel, definitely, Will thought.

“Why do you think we will need to leave?”

“With Castro’s death and the opening of Cuba,” Will shrugged, not sure how to explain the growing dread. Hannibal closed his paper and stood, moving to stand behind Will. He wrapped his arms around him, pressing his cleanly shaven cheek next to Will’s stubbled one.

“We can find another place to stay,” Hannibal mused. Will snorted. He understood that Hannibal liked his life a certain way. His luxuries, which ensnared him last time. Hannibal had painstakingly selected this home for them after weeks in a sumptuous hotel. It wasn’t overly ostentatious, this house, but it was a bit much for two bachelor men.He had also forsworn some of his favorite delicacies. In return, Will allowed Hannibal to purchase him a pair of ridiculously short salmon colored swim shorts. It was the best disguise, Hannibal had argued. No one would expect Will Graham to saunter down a beach in such bright trunks. 

“What about the Maldives?,” Will suggested, barely turning his head so that his lips brushed against Hannibal’s. “No extradition treaty.”

“Argentina,” Hannibal countered, almost purring. He turned Will around and pressed him against the wall, his leg moving between Will’s thighs. The younger man sighed and arched his back as Hannibal bent down and licked at the notch in Will’s collarbone, carding his fingers through his unruly hair.

“Hmm, something more tropical,” Will demanded, tilting his head to catch Hannibal’s lips with his own, gripping his shoulders tightly. "An ocean..." Hannibal hummed as Will whispered something about pink shorts. 

It didn’t take much to convince Hannibal that perhaps Will’s thinking was right, Will later reflected as he lay curled up next to Hannibal, head on his naked chest. Hannibal did not sleep much but he was dozing in that moment, like a cat, the afternoon sun filtering in through the blinds. Satisfied, a slight upward curve of his lips, Will thought as he propped himself up on his elbows. He watched the rise and fall of Hannibal’s chest and looked around the room they shared. Soon no longer theirs but someone else’s. Their life was to be found in these moments, the way Hannibal always pulled Will tightly to him at night. The way he would snatch a kiss from Will’s lips when bringing dinner to the table. The way he would smile when Will would slide his knife across some rude man’s throat.

The woman began screaming shrilly at her child again, calling him names this time. Hannibal grimaced in his sleep and Will grinned. He knew exactly what their last meal would be.

**Author's Note:**

> I think Will could take his pink shorts to the Maldives too.


End file.
